


Change

by DeanneA



Category: Pentatonix, Scomiche - Fandom
Genre: Other, Trans Character
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-18
Updated: 2016-01-18
Packaged: 2018-05-14 19:08:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5754832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeanneA/pseuds/DeanneA
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If you do not change direction, you may end up where you are heading.  -- Lao Tzu</p><p>Life does not get better by chance, it gets better by change. --  Unknown</p><p>If nothing ever changed, there'd be no butterflies.  --Unknown</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

All my life I've heard people say things like:

'I feel like such a MAN'

'Man up!'

'It takes a real man to....'

I have no idea what they're talking about.


	2. Prologue

There are things you're born knowing -- how to cry, to nurse, to be cute as hell. There are many more things we're all taught -- how to read, to walk, to hide ourselves.

People sometimes say they knew they were gay since they were five, or eight or whatever. They say they always knew they were different and for some people I have no doubt that it's true. Maybe it feels like love at first sight, to see a label that fits you so well that you know it will be with you forever. A perfect match that you can't help but slip in to, like a warm coat on a cold day.

For others it's harder.

Learning your colors as a child is harder for those who are colorblind, who don't fit the 'norm' in the way they see things. I'm not colorblind, I see things just fine; too clearly sometimes. But I don't feel things quite the same way as other people. I never have. I'm not sure I have a box, of crayons or any other kind. I wish I did.

So I've done what I can. I've squeezed myself into the boxes that were most comfortable because everyone needs one. At one time or another they're comforting and safe. They say that labels are for soup cans and I believe that but they're also links in a chain to others like you, or at least less different from you than most. Here's the thing I've learned about labels though; they should only be used by yourself, not others. They fall into the toothbrush and deodorant category. 

I'm okay, I am.

 

I'm just not quite right.

 

Yet.

Yet. I say that as if I have any intention of ever changing.

I don't.

It's not in the cards for me.

But that's okay.

Change isn't for everyone.

Right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *** And now for the disclaimer ***
> 
> Everyone is different. This is simply a story about one person who is different in their own way. I don't claim to represent everyone's journey/struggle/life here. I may not write things the way you want them to go. Our heroine may struggle with different things or in different ways than some other people. That's okay though because it's fiction, a story.
> 
> I hope you enjoy the journey :)


	3. Tricks

We were sitting on the couch keeping each other company like we always do while the magical video editing took place. 'Oh please, I literally know everything about you' he said on film, teasing. I rewound that snippet of the video and wondered if anyone else would notice how obviously my eyes darted away. I wasn't sure if it was a good idea to leave that part in but he seemed to like it a lot and didn't seem to notice anything odd about it. I crossed my fingers and we left it in.

The 'she' though, that had to come out. When he'd called me that, my face looked like I had gotten punched in the stomach which was, coincidentally, exactly how it felt. It took a few minutes to edit that part out and splice the video together seamlessly. He rolled his eyes but didn't argue about erasing it. Okay, one more quick run through to make sure it was safe for public consumption before the upload started. It wasn't our best video ever but it would do and we didn't have much time before we left for the night.

I pulled the blanket over me as the progress bar ticked up slowly. I probably should have been getting a shower to get ready for the bar tonight but I didn't feel like it yet and waiting for the video was more than enough of an excuse to keep my ass firmly planted on the soft cushion. "If you're not going to hop in I am" he said and disappeared around the corner.

Even after he left I could still hear his words, see the way the light caught his eyes as the words had poured out of his mouth so easily. He'd believed them with all his heart but he was wrong; he didn't know everything about me . I wondered for about the millionth time how it was possible that he didn't see it. How my best friend who knew me better than anyone hadn't gotten down to the kernel of truth behind my shy smiles. 

How could he know me so well yet not see the act? Was I really that good at it? If so I deserved some sort of trophy. Maybe he didn't know me as well as I thought or maybe I just didn't actually know myself. Can you pretend something into reality? Can you believe in something so much, wish for it so hard that it becomes true? When does an act stop being one?

It seemed like I slipped up often though and showed my true colors, sometimes by accident and sometimes just because I was too tired to keep up the façade. I felt like I'd made so many mistakes and left so many clues that I may as well get a t-shirt made. I guess things are always more obvious when you know the answer though. Looking back everyone says 'Oh I knew that!' and everything seems obvious. No one likes to admit that their brains have failed them, that their preconceptions have colored the facts and helped them ignore clues that are right in front of them. It happens to everyone. In fact, it might be happening to you right now. 

You probably think I'm Mitch.


	4. Six months ago

I ran my hand over my prickly, annoying stubble and instinctively reached for my razor. Hair was such a pain. You'd think that after tens of thousands of years of human evolution there would be a way to look in the mirror and say 'You know what hair? This is perfect. Don't grow any more until I tell you otherwise.' But no such luck. I hated dealing with it every day, it was a constant reminder that my body was my own worst enemy. Screw it, I'll do it afterwards if there's time. I put my razor down and got into the now hot shower. 

The mirror was so steamed up afterwards that I could barely manage to brush my teeth in it, let alone use a blade. I decided that Alex would have to deal with it and had just pulled my pants up when I heard Mitch screaming from the living room.

"Heeellllp!!!" I raced out without even bothering with my shirt. He was sitting at the dining table painting his nails.

"Oh good. Took you long enough. Can you get mommy a bottle of water? And take the top off for me?" He stuck the top back on the bottle of black polish and started waving his hands in the air.

"Are you crazy? I thought you were dying." Without even thinking about it I took a few steps towards the fridge but then stopped, annoyed with myself.

"I am. I'm dying of thirst. Get me a drink big boy. Please?"

 

Let me tell you something, Mitch is lucky that I'm nice. "Fine. Is there anything else, your majesty?"

He had the audacity to look around and think about it. "No thanks, I'm good. You really need to do something with that hair before it dries like that."

"That's what hats are for Freddie" I wasn't sure he'd get the Queen reference, it was a bit convoluted even for me. "Queen" I offered when he looked confused. "Nevermind."

"Oh, Freddie Mercury. Got it Sis. You, hair. Don't wear a hat tonight, you wore one yesterday."

"I hate my hair." It wasn't ever going to look the way I wanted it to so why bother?

"So let it grow out a little. Or hell, shave it if you're just going to be too lazy to do anything with it. Want me to do it for you?"

"Style it or shave it? Would you?" I asked. "But your nails are wet, right? But seriously, I am SO done with hair today. I hate it all."

"They'll be dry in another minute and Alex won't be here for like twenty minutes, right? You look like you're struggling today, what's going on? You can't even decide on a shirt?"

I glanced down, having forgotten that I was topless. "I ran out here to save you from the damn thirst demon. I don't decide on shirts Mitch, I just wear what's in front."

"You're such a man" he scoffed, turning away.

"Yeah" I muttered under my breath. "Such a man." I headed back towards my room to grab a shirt but all of a sudden his hand was on my shoulder blade.

"Scott?"

"Yeah?" I didn't turn, I didn't want to see him. I could hear in his voice that he had heard me and I silently cursed myself. I needed to keep my mouth shut.

"I didn't mean anything by it. I happen to like the fact that you're a big, brawny man."

 

"I should have kept my mouth shut." No filter. I have no filter.

"You don't ever have to do that with me."

I nodded and stepped forward, his hand dropping away.

"Wear a hat if you must but I draw the line at camo!!" I heard him shout as I closed my door.

I threw on the first hat I could grab off my wall and ran my palm over my cheek, glad for the stubble. There was only one way to try to pull me out of this, I needed to slip into bro mode and I was glad for the fact that I hadn't shaved. I grabbed a button down and threw it on, then changed my hat. I might not care too much most of the time but we were going out and I always wore a particular hat with this shirt. I glanced in the mirror quickly. Good enough. I looked like me.

I heard the knock and passed Mitch as he fled into his room to finish getting ready. I opened the door and Alex stepped in looking preppy and perfect, like he always did. "Hey" I said in greeting.

"Hey babe."

*** ***

 

The music was loud, my friends were louder and I was headlining the act. What had started out as a plan for five or six of us to go out had morphed into at least 10 but I was too tipsy to bother trying to count. A lot. There were a LOT of people here. Worked for me, I loved people. Mitch was okay too, I always checked on him when we were out. He'd had enough to drink to come out of his shell and lose the last of his 'give-a-fucks' so we were all good.

Alex ran off to use the bathroom and I caught Mitch's eye. He realized right away that Alex wasn't at my side because he tilted his head in his famous 'seriously?' move. He'd read my mind and oh yeah, I wanted a dance. I made my way through the two people separating us and held out my hand. "Get out here!" He didn't resist, the vodka had done it's job. I pulled us into the circle on the edge of the dance floor where honestly, there wasn't much dancing going on. At least sober people wouldn't call it dancing but it was close enough for me. It was loud and busy and didn't give anyone too much time to focus on me. Just right.

Alex made it halfway back but got sucked into a small group at the bar. He shot me a smile and pointed to a beer, asking if I wanted another. Of course I did. I pulled Mitch a little closer to my side and asked "He loves me, right?"

"Allie? Oh yeah" Mitch answered. "Of course. Why?"

Because I wanted to tell him. I was tired of holding myself back. He'd mentioned again last week spending Thanksgiving together this year. If I'd go to his parents for that one he was willing to give up Christmas with his folks and come to Texas. It made sense, it was nice of him and I wanted to do it but... that would lead to other things. Maybe I'd put some feelers out, see what he thought about subjects that I always did my best to avoid. Other than watching a Glee episode I wasn't sure how to do it but-- 

"Hi" he said, handing me a beer and pulling me out of my thoughts.

 

Screw it, I was gonna do it. I mean, I wasn't going to SAY anything but.... "Come outside?" We headed down the steps and out onto the back patio where it was actually fairly empty because it was chilly by LA standards. Better. At least I'd be able to hear him. "Hey Allie?"

"Yeah?" He looked at me like he was expecting a kiss and granted, that's what I usually did when I pulled him away from the cameras and people but not quite yet, not this time.

"Would you date me if I put on fifty pounds?"

"Fifty? That's a lot."

I know, that's why I picked it. Five wouldn't have quite the same idea, concept, whatever. I was too tipsy for this. "Yeah. Or more, whatever."

"I don't know. Why would you do that to yourself?"

See the thing that most people don't know about Alex, or at least don't say to either of our faces is that he's pretty shallow. One of the first nights I hung out at his apartment he was literally wearing a 'no fat chicks' shirt. I told him I hated it and I haven't seen it on him but I'm sure it's in the bottom of his dresser. I go with it because he tempers it around me. He doesn't say shit outright and keeps his thoughts to himself. But now, well I guess I needed a reminder and to know for sure how he felt. I needed to hear it so I would know where I stood and get some of these crazy ideas out of my head. "What if it just happened? If I got sick or just decided I never wanted to go to the gym again?"

"Would you still be rich?" he asked, smiling and joking it off.

"Nope, poor as hell."

"What's going on Scott? You know I love you."

"What if I went to jail?" I asked, grasping at straws.

"Jail? For what?" He took my now empty beer bottle from my hand and sniffed at it. "Maybe somebody spiked this. Did it taste funny?"

 

"Nope, this is all me."

"I don't know Scott, honestly. Would I have been attracted to you in the beginning if you were a fattie? No. Just being honest cause it seems like you're not going to drop this. Now? I don't know. I guess if I wasn't attracted to you I wouldn't date you because that's sort of important to me. If you were in jail for like murder or something I'd be gone. There, does that answer your crazy questions?"

 

"Yeah."

"Seeing as you are not fat or ugly or a murderer, take me home?" He closed the space between us and leaned his head on my shoulder, kissing the side of my neck. 

It was an offer I couldn't refuse. "Let's go." I ordered an Uber and sent Mitch a quick text and waited for him to decide if he was staying or going. He wasn't done for the night so Alex and I had the apartment to ourselves for awhile.


	5. Five months ago

"Willam Belli!?!?!" I repeated for about the third time.

"You LOVE him! We watched every single one of their videos and laughed our asses off for like three straight days on the bus." 

Mitch had no idea why I was upset by his announcement. He'd scored us a huge guest and I should have been excited. I needed to get my shit together pronto. "We should just do you. YOU will make a gorgeous woman." It was true, with those pretty lips and snatched brows he could probably pull it off.

"Oh no, I have waited my entire life to see you made up. I wanted to do drag for Halloween one year and you refused."

"One year?" I countered. He'd voted for it at least five times, it was his fail-safe when he didn't have an idea. Needless to say I usually ended up choosing. "Try five. But Mitch, no. I can't. Besides, I will look a mess."

"Yes, yes you will. But if anyone can work some magic, Willam can."

"I don't want to look awful." It was bad enough imagining it, I sure as hell didn't want a video for posterity.

"Well you have a few days to get used to the idea, Willam will be here next weekend and promised that we'd find some time to do a video. I'm going to say yes, obviously. Right?" He looked at me with that smile and the gleam in his eye that I could never say no to. 

"Fine." I'd done worse. I could fake it till I made it with the best of them.

*** *** ***

The video had actually been a lot of fun. Willam and his assistant were funny as hell and everyone was in the spirit and enjoying it. It had been so over-the-top crazy that it didn't bother me that I looked ridiculous. Mitch of course was stunning even though he'd literally dry shaved last minute. Dork.

I edited it and Mitch called it 'perfection' before bouncing off towards who knows where to do who knows what. It likely involved Tumblr or a dating app.

I happened to freeze on a frame of me that actually didn't look too bad, at least not compared to the others. I thought that if I cropped things and found just the right moment, there might actually be a non-hideous picture of me hiding in this mayhem. I was wrong. I spent forty-five minutes trying to edit the best pic I could but it was still hopeless. I didn't even realize how upset I was until Mitch gasped.

His hand flew to the door frame as if he were holding himself up. "Honey? Are you okay?"

I tried really hard to put the wall back up and the mask on before I lifted my head. "Yeah fine."

"Are you watching videos of sick puppies or something?" he asked, managing to wedge himself under my arm and in front of my screen which I hadn't minimized yet. "It's you, well, sort of. What is it?"

"Nothing."

"Mmhmm" he answered sassily. "Sure. Want some company?" 

He knew I wouldn't talk, he knew me so well. I usually got around to talking once I'd made a decision or worked through things but he wasn't going to get a speech this time. I wanted to be alone but I also didn't. You know how it goes. "Watch a movie with me? A happy one?"

"You pick one while I get snacks Snitch. Do we have popcorn?"

I wasn't in the kitchen, he was. "My mental telepathy says yes?"

"No that's when you can read someone's mind, right?" he answered. "Oh we do."

"See, I was reading your mind. I'm good!" And I was, in more ways than one. I was a little bit better as soon as I closed the laptop and tried to forget about the stupid hair and nails. I mentally patted myself on the back even though it was stupid but I felt like I'd won. I'd stepped up to the line and made it back alive. If not for my rolling stomach and the pit in the center of my chest I would have been fine. Maybe popcorn would help and if not, the movie might. And if all else failed, there was always Mitch.

*** *** ***

The next morning Mitch was frustrating me just by being himself, herself, whatever. That sounds nasty but it's not, she was fully embracing everything and trying on looks like it was underwear. I just wished it could have been me. I was supportive because that's my job and I have no right to complain or care what he puts on his body but watching him turn into a fucking ethereal being in front of my eyes was HARD. The first time he walked out in some six-inch wedge boots I almost drooled. Seriously, I WANT. Can't have, but want. Life sucks.

He'd promised that he had something new he just had to show me and I was sitting on the couch waiting. I was bracing myself, smiling already so that there was no chance I'd discourage him or let my feelings out accidentally. I was good at fake smiling; I did it a lot. He was taking forever to get changed and the longer it took the more anxious I got. 

He walked out in a long, black bat-wing cape thing that looked absolutely amazing. He had on the tightest little jeans I'd ever seen and those damn high boots. He looked stunning. His hair was getting really long and his nails were done and he had on some really glittery lip gloss. I took it all in, the whole beautiful picture and dug my fingertips into the couch.

 

"Andro-chic" he said, grinning. "Like or love?"

 

"It's amazing" I said truthfully. He spun in a circle and struck a pose. "Where are you going to wear it?"

"Oh I have no idea. Some place special! Or to Starbucks, whichever. Speaking of, want to go get some dinner?"

"Not at Starbucks I don't Miranda."

He rolled his eyes. "Sustenance. They're connected."

I looked down at my sweatpants. "Not sure I'm fit to be seen in public with you."

"You never are. Come on, I'm hungry. You can choose where" he offered, grabbing his bag. 

"Can I at least put on some pants and a hat?" I just waited twenty minutes for you to get dressed, give me three. Geesh.

He had the audacity to look put out as he perched on the edge of the sofa with his legs crossed. "Please feel free to do whatever you can with that" he said, waving his hand in my general direction.

*** *** ***

That night after Mitch had gone to bed I snuck into the bathroom and found his nail polish. I couldn't wear his cute shoes or clothes and we all knew how I looked in make-up so that was out. I was jonesing for something intangible and painting my nails was a stupid waste of time but at that moment I really, really wanted to do it. I needed to.

Mine were awful from biting them constantly and black definitely wasn't my color of choice but I did it anyway. I sat at my desk, cursing the tiny little wand and the brush that just smooshed everywhere and ended up painting half my fingertip. I made a mess of it and they looked a wreck. Still, I sort of enjoyed doing it and caught myself smiling and humming to myself. I'd never polished them before and might never again so I turned the lights down and tried to pretend like I'd done a decent job while I stared at them.

Okay, time to take it off. Even if I had managed to do a decent job I couldn't go to bed like this; eyebrows would be raised and comments made. I listened for the sweet sound of silence before making my way back into the bathroom to get the remover. Except it wasn't there. I looked through every drawer and the medicine cabinet. I went through the kitchen and dining room, wondering if he'd left it somewhere before realizing that it must be in his room. Shit.

It was late but there was a 24-hour pharmacy not too far from us that would be open. The problem was that I couldn't go IN there looking like this. I didn't even own gloves and it was Los Angeles; they'd probably call the cops if I went in wearing some. Sneaking into Mitch's room seemed beyond creepy but it was my only choice.

I grabbed my phone for some light and turned his doorknob so slowly that if I'd gone even a bit slower it would have been morning by the time the door finally opened. I cracked the door open just enough to stick my head in and make sure he was in bed. After my heart stopped pounding and my eyes had adjusted to the darkness I decided that he was definitely still asleep. I crept in on my tip toes as if it would matter and let my eyes dart around, hoping to spot the bottle quickly and get the hell out of here.

"Scott?" he mumbled, not lifting his head. "What is it?"

I froze and stayed silent, actually thinking that maybe he was only half awake and he might fall back asleep.

"Wyatt?" he mumbled, then flipped over. "Talk, don't make me wake up rest way. Need to sleep here?"

"No, no I uh, nothing Mitch. Go back to sleep. Sorry." I took a step towards the door and tried to make my escape.

"Scott?" He sat up and pushed his hair out of his eyes. Honestly he looked silly but also cute as hell with his shoulders all slouched over and his head drooping. "What do you need?"

"Um, I uh need your polish remover."

"My polish remover?" he repeated, clearly confused. "Nails? I'm out, sorry. What do you need it for? And why now? What time is it?" He glanced over to his nightstand before mumbling "It's 2 am."

"Do you think you could get me some in the morning?" The earlier the better? I had things to do tomorrow; how could I have been so stupid?

"Some what?"

"Polish remover Mitch. You're not going to remember this, are you? I'll text you, okay? Go back to sleep."

He considered it, I could tell but instead he swung his legs over and stood up. "Nope, this is too weird. Couch, now."

"We can talk here, you don't have to get up Mitch."

"I'm awake now and I'd like to erase the memory of waking up to you stalking around my room, thanks. Besides I'm thirsty. Get out." He followed behind me and went to the fridge while I sat down on the couch. I tried to hide my nails but there was no way he wasn't going to notice. I was screwed. "Want a bottle?" he asked.

"No, no I'm fine. You should go back to bed. I'm really sorry I woke you up." I was, too. Not only because I was stupid and he was going to figure shit out but because he looked exhausted. We didn't get many nights at home in our bed and I felt like crap for ruining one.

"Are you mad at me Sushi?"

Not what I expected. At all. "Huh?"

"You've just been quiet and a little off. I don't know. And did you just ask me for... wait. Let me see your hands."

"No. Please?" I didn't want to do this. I couldn't do this. He would probably just laugh it off but I just couldn't right now. He reached for my wrists and I gave up. I uncurled my fists and let him see the mess I had made.

"It's hard to do your own, obviously. Why didn't you just let me? Not that I'd probably do much better. The goth look suits you though. Hey, what's wrong?"

I was trembling, literally trembling and trying to remember how to breathe. "Nothing."

"Why are you lying to me? When did that start? Hmmm? Since when do we not talk about everything?"

"We... I'm sorry. I can't. I can't tell you."

"But why?"

"Because you'll say it's FINE!" I stood up and paced towards the kitchen. "You'll say it's fine, that it's okay. You'll tell me I can do all sorts of things that I can't. And then when I don't do them you'll resent me and be mad about it because if it was you who were like me then you would rule the world. You'll hate that I can't... that I'm not... that it's impossible Mitch! You have no idea what... I can't." I pulled out one of the dining room chairs and plopped my wide ass into it. "You can do things I can't. Okay? I'm not you. I can't... but you won't see that. You won't understand because you're amazing and beautiful and... I don't know. Just go back to bed and I'll go to bed and we can forget this ever happened. And please get me some remover tomorrow because I can't leave the house like this. I'm such a fuck up."

I'm not sure when he came up behind me, his hands resting on my shoulders while I buried my face into my hands and cried. I don't know how long he stood there or what he was thinking. I don't know why I was crying or what I was going to do next. All I knew was that he didn't leave. He was still here and I wanted to believe he always would be, no matter what. He wouldn't hate me but he'd hate the body and the act I lived in. I wasn't sure he could deal with me once he knew the truth and I couldn't deal with that because I was stuck here.

I didn't sleep very well. I had crazy dreams when I finally fell asleep, the kind that are bad but so weird that if you actually tried to tell anyone about them they wouldn't seem nearly as bad as they felt. Those. I was surprised that I slept as late as I did and wandered out to the living room a little after ten.

On the dining room table was a cup of coffee, nail polish remover, cotton balls, four bottles of polish and a note. The paper was folded in half so I didn't have to read it right away and I didn't. I poured the chilly coffee into one of my mugs and popped it into the microwave to warm it up. While that was going on I leaned over the sink and took the polish off my nails and fingers. It took about 83 cotton balls and I had to re-nuke my coffee once I was done because it had taken so long. What a pain in the ass.

 

I sat down at the table because even if I didn't want to read the note I would. One, it was from Mitch and might be important. Two, I'm a curious cat. Three, I had to know what he was thinking about the chaos of last night.

Scotty,

Hope this is everything you need this morning. Feel free to use this stuff any time, I bought myself some too so it's all yours.

I love you, you crazy dufuss. Dofuss? Doufoux? Dafuck?

Anyway, I'm getting a haircut and I'll see you later. Call me if you need anything else. I'll bring lunch?

Ms. Manicure

 

I grabbed the four bottles of polish into my hand. Black, a really dark glittery purple, a soft pink and clear. Quite an assortment. I really didn't know if I'd ever use them but I went into my room and tucked them into an empty shoebox in my closet. I should have thrown them out but I just didn't want to and it's not like I had to hide them from anyone, Mitch already knew. 

I needed a shower and to think and doing those two things at the same time was an activity I was really, really good at. As I was shampooing my hair I wondered why Mitch had bought me the polish. Was it his way of saying 'you should do this' or just a 'you probably wouldn't buy it for yourself cause you're a wuss so here?' or was there some other meaning behind it? Did he think I did this a lot or that I wanted to? Did he have any idea why? 

 

I decided that he painted his nails so there was no reason for him to think I wouldn't want to as well and for the same reasons. Maybe he thought I saw his and thought they were cool so wanted to give it a try? Either way I didn't think my secret was out of the bag or anything and if he didn't bring it up again then my life may not actually end.

I sent a text to Mitch telling him to bring two of whatever he thought I would like because I was gonna eat my arm soon and then called Alex at work to say 'hi' and do the boyfriend thing. He was actually pretty busy today so I told him I'd go over to his place this evening.

Mitch walked in fifteen minutes later with a huge bag of food. I had never been so happy to see him. Okay, not true. I grabbed it from him and set everything out on the counter while he put his bag away and took off his shoes and socks. I have never met anyone who hates socks and shoes as much as he does. Seriously, unless he's outside they're off. He's taken them off in hotel lobbies, cars, and even once in a bar before I realized and made him put them back on before he stepped on something that would make him scream either in horror or pain.

He glanced at my nails as he sat down but didn't say anything. If he was waiting for me to bring it up the boy was going to be waiting a LONG time. I practically inhaled my sandwich and didn't stop chewing until he spoke.

"There's nothing wrong with it, you know. You could leave the house."

He could, I couldn't. "Thanks for the remover."

"You're welcome. Like the new colors? I wanted to find a really nice blue because it's your favorite color and all but none of them looked like you."

That's probably because I don't actually like blue. I mean, it's fine but I don't actively like it. It's just a safe color. You know what I really like? Teal. That deep, shimmery teal that reminds me of mermaid scales. It's a color that screams out loud but it's mysterious too. I like it. But guys aren't really supposed to even know what color 'teal' is, even gay ones. But I'm not really that either, am I? "You didn't need to buy me any, are you sure you don't want them?"

"Nope, I got myself the purple and a cream. Not sure if it'll look good or creepy, do you want to try it out with me?"

He may as well have asked me to walk naked into a fire station. "No thanks. But have fun." I stood up and grabbed all the trash and threw it into the can on my way to my room.

"Scott?"

I didn't want to turn around, I didn't, but this was Mitch so of course I did. "Yeah?"

"You said a lot last night and some of it ran together and most of it was really vague. My brain's been trying to make sense of it all morning and I'm worried I'm jumping to the wrong conclusions. Do you want to tell me something? It would be alright, whatever it is. You mentioned me being mad at you and there were a lot of 'can'ts' but I don't really think there's anything you can't do Scott."

"Can we just forget about it?"

"I can but I doubt you can."

I just smiled and turned, quickly covering the 8 feet to my door. Once it was closed behind me I sat at my desk and opened up my laptop. He was right though, I'd been trying to forget about it for what seemed like forever. It was one more thing I couldn't seem to do.


	6. Four months ago

*** Four months ago***

Another amazing city, another awesome show and yet one more hotel room. Mitch and I weren't rooming together this tour which was a huge change. Most of me didn't really mind; it was nice to have room to spread out, to not fight over who got the first shower and to be able to stay up or go to sleep early without affecting anyone else. But I missed him sometimes. I was tempted to ask him to come over when there was a knock at my door.

I opened it, surprised to see Kirstie on the other side. "Hey Scotty, want to come over to my room for girls night?" she asked. "Mitch and Esther and I are doing it up and he thought you might be bored enough to come watch our shenanigans. What do you think?"

"I uh... I have a book that I wanted to read." Which I did. A self-help happy book about being your best or something. Once I mentioned it though I realized that she was going to ask me what I was reading and I needed to figure out how to spin it. I looked down at her and realized she must have asked me a question or made a comment because she looked at me as if it were my turn to respond. "Sorry, I missed that."

"I said a book can wait. It's the great thing about them, you know. Please? I think Mitch is a little down and he asked for you. He's not the only one a little bit off though I guess."

I had noticed that he'd been quiet yesterday and stayed a bit to himself today but I also knew him well enough to know that he'd bitch if it would help and otherwise he usually preferred to be left alone. But if he'd asked, I would go. "Okay. Which room? Give me five?"

"813. See you soon." She pointed across the hall as she smiled her megawatt killer grin and I was glad I'd agreed to go. When I arrived there were two bottles of wine already opened and I had a glass, or three. Apparently navy blue eyeliner was the newest thing that night and there was lots of gold powder to bring out eye specks or something. They all moaned and groaned that they didn't have my blue eyes while I smiled and watched from the comfy armchair.

"You know, I get that Willam Belli is funny as hell but we could have done a much better job with your make-up" Kirstie said, standing up and walking towards me with a brush in her hand and a menacing gleam in her cat-eyes. "Can I play with you?" 

They'd already done Mitch and let me tell you that he looks amazing in winged eyeliner and mascara. His eyebrows were freshly plucked and his eyes looked huge. I was the only unadorned one in the room so I didn't have anyone to throw in front of the bus. "I'm pretty tired actually, going to hit the sack."

"I'll walk him out" Mitch said, standing and stretching his arms over his head. "It's been a long week. Thanks for the brows, ladies."

"Make sure you post a selfie before you wash that off Mitchy" Kirstie said.

"You know it girl. The world deserves to see this. Okay Scottland, let's vamoose." I followed him out but instead of turning towards his door he steered me towards mine. "You okay?" he asked.

"Of course I am, just tired and ready to call it a day. Like you said it's been a long week" I answered, pausing at my door.

"Let me in, I need to talk."

I assumed he was finally ready to talk about whatever had been on his mind the past few days and I wasn't going to make him hold it in if he didn't wan to. "Sure." I collapsed rather ungraciously onto the very firm bed and wished I'd been more gentle. "What's been going on?"

"I'm worried about you."

I threw one forearm over my eyes. No, no no. "Well I'm worried about you. You've seemed down."

"I am, or at least a bit preoccupied and that's because you have a secret. It's a big secret and it's bothering you and you can't even tell me. That's what worries me the most honestly because I can't imagine anything you can't tell me so it has to be really bad or at least really big and if you need help... I want to help. No matter what it is Scottland."

I didn't say anything. For the first time in a long time my brain was absolutely blank.

"Is it a 'go to jail' thing? I won't tell, I swear. Is it you or do you just know something?"

He thought I.. what? He honestly sounded like he was waiting for me to tell him I'd run over a child with my car and drove away. That's how scared and heavy his voice was. "Nothing like that. The cops aren't after me or anything Mitch."

"Oh thank GOD. Okay, so what is it? I mean you told me you're gay and look how well that went!" he joked, trying to ease the tension.

"I never said I was gay, Mitch."

"Of course you--"

"No" I interrupted, "I said I liked boys."

"Right. Same thing."

"Not really. Not always." My words hung in the air and I didn't understand how it was possible that some sort of smoke or lack of oxygen alarm wasn't going off. And then I realized it was just me when Mitch opened his mouth and seemed unaffected by the weight of the world that was currently sitting in the middle of my bed.

"It's the same thing unless you 'I like boys' and then say 'and girls'" he countered. "Obviously that would be different and it's not limited to just binary genders obviously but still, you're a boy who dates only boys and that makes you gay unless of course...." and then Mitch's 'I'm thinking, hold the hell on a minute' face made an appearance and I waited. When his index finger went up in the air I knew I probably had time for a bathroom break or to get a snack but I was frozen to the spot so I just waited some more. "I'm not going to put labels on you or words in your mouth. Tell me."

"I can't."

He seemed to ignore me and sat there patiently as if I wasn't serious, as if he thought I just needed a little bit of time to counter and then I'd come back swinging. Eventually he realized that I was done. His voice had mellowed and he spoke like one does to a stray dog or a frightened child. "You're right, you don't say 'gay' about yourself. And you always say 'kid', not 'boy' when you talk about your childhood. But you're... I mean you're..." The wheels were turning but he couldn't see and then it happened; he sucked in a sharp breath as he peered behind the curtain of my act. "Holy shit. Tell me though, you need to. You can. Help me understand, let me in."

 

"There's nothing to say, Mitch."

"Damn it Scott, there is SO..." He stood then and went to the window. "I love you, you know. Whatever, whoever, however. It doesn't matter to me except that I don't want to be cruel or hurt you and... God I've said some... Oh god I'm so sorry!" He faced me then, his face downturned and lips flushed as his eyes started to glisten. "I've been so nasty! Why didn't you stop me? I didn't mean... they were jokes obviously but..."

"It's okay Mitch." I tried to not take them to heart and I was pretty good at focusing on the positive. Besides, I knew he didn't mean to be spiteful and it really didn't bother me most of the time.

"No it's not and I won't do it again. Can you answer a question?"

"I can try." I felt drunk or not even that, more numb. Yes, numb. I'd had this conversation so many times in my head that it almost felt like watching someone else's life come apart.

"I'm having an 'aha' moment and NO this is not the time to break into song and you KNOW I take every chance I get. The nails, the Willam video, the make-up tonight. You're so damn manly that's not really what I mean because you're not and it never made sense to me that someone so accepting of everyone else was so damn uptight about... but, but it still doesn't make sense. Why not do it when you get the chance? That's not the question I wanted to ask but let's start there anyway. I get one more though."

"It's complicated."

"But I would understand! Or at least try."

"I know and that's half the damn problem Mitch! Don't you GET IT?"

"No!" he snapped back, then sent me an apology with his eyes as he softened his voice. "I want to get it. How is that the problem? You said crazy stuff after the whole nail polish remover fiasco and we're having the same conversation again it seems although at least I think I know a little more what's going on this time. I still don't see the problem though. Why is me not being an asshole a bad thing?"

"Because this" I said, motioning to my face and torso "Is what it is. It's not changing."

"Scott?"

"Yeah?"

"Are you trans? I mean, are you a girl? The part that matters?" 

His eyes were so wide and so hopeful but I wasn't sure for what. For me to admit it? "Don't tell anyone."

"I'm offended you're even saying that!" he chided. "Yes?"

"Yeah. Happy now?"

"That I know? That you don't feel alone in this? That maybe I can help even a tiny bit? Hell yeah girl."

I cringed. "Don't call me that, please?"

"Why? I call everyone else that. If you're worried about somebody hearing me call you girl and them somehow thinking it means more than a superficial term, you are CRAZY. Trust me, no one would EVER guess. I didn't even know!" He smacked my bicep then. "You silly bitch! You could have told me. Should have told me!"

"It's..."

"Complicated? Fine, I won't do it on purpose but that shit slips out constantly." He sat back down right across from me and plucked a bit of my pilled sweatpants up between his thumb and index finger. "So explain the fashion to me, this hair, this lack of giving a fuck. I would think that you of all people would make an effort."

"It doesn't matter." I didn't know how to explain that it wasn't what I wanted to wear and therefore didn't matter. What did I care if the collar on my button down was pointed or notched? If my ugly spikey mane did something or I just put a hat on? There weren't words to tell him that the further away I was, the easier it was to ignore.

"I'm speechless, really. Hey, do you have another name?"

 

I literally closed my eyes and took a deep breath. "No."

"Just asking. I wasn't sure how far you've gotten. So what do I do to support you? How can I help?"

"You can forget this conversation ever happened."

 

"Are you fucking kidding!?"

"Go to bed Mitch, please? Just go, we have an early morning and I'm tired."

He stood but I wasn't sure if he was actually going to leave or not and I'm not sure he could decide either. I looked away towards the window and eventually heard the door open and then close loudly behind him.

*** ***  
The next morning was a whirlwind right through lunch. We had interviews and then a flight to catch. I am a pro and did my job so well that I honestly didn't realize anything was wrong until the plane ride. He didn't sit with me. Granted it was a private plane so he wasn't far or anything, plus we'd all gotten on in a huge rush and everyone just sort of sat wherever but still, he didn't sit with me.

I texted him and he replied but then very obviously slipped his phone into his bag and turned towards Kirstie. I didn't know what to do, honestly. I knew he had something going on, he'd been distant for days but he'd sort of implied last night that most of that was me? I wasn't sure, we hadn't really talked about it. I told myself that I was overreacting and jumping to conclusions because of the talk. He was probably fine and we were fine and I dug through my pockets looking for some damn chill. "Avi, do you have any gum?" It would have to do. 

"I do, one sec. Ears bothering you?" 

"A little." He handed a pack to me and I stole a piece before passing it back. "Thanks."

 

"You okay?" he asked.

"Oh yeah, of course." I forced a smile to my face. "Just tired." Of hiding, of worrying.

"I feel you there. Try doing all of this when you're old."

"Poor Avi. Did you take your vitamins today grandpa?" I teased.

"As a matter of fact" he said, stroking his beard. "I did." He gave me a hundred megawatt smile then and I relaxed. We were starting our descent after a quick flight and I thought I was in the clear. "If you decide you're not just tired, I have two ears and a shoulder I'm more than willing to loan you. Granted, my shoulders aren't nearly as broad as yours but in a pinch I've been told they'll do."

 

I chuckled, then made sure I wasn't taking up any of his seat. "Thanks."

"Also I have a tip on a great restaurant so if food would help, I plan on going out after the show."

"If you can stay awake that long" I joked.

"Right! Better try to get a nap in real quick." 

He turned his head to the side and actually closed his eyes which cracked me up because we'd probably be on the ground in 10 minutes or less. Actually though, it didn't seem like such a bad way to spend the rest of the flight so I balled my hoodie up and made it into a hard, lumpy pillow.

As soon as I closed my eyes I was inundated with snippets and phrases of last nights conversation. I saw his eyes, heard the 'I love you', saw how tight his mouth got when I asked him to drop it. He'd wanted more from me, things that I just couldn't say or do. He wanted my confession to be a damn party and it wasn't nor would it ever be. 

He was disappointed in me and that hurt. It hurt a lot. I'd seen this coming a mile away, I'd always known that he would be able to accept who I was just fine but that he'd be unable to accept my 'choice' to not do anything about it. It wasn't really a choice though, it was the only option. I shouldn't have told him and I couldn't believe I'd been so stupid. This was my fault and I would have to deal with the consequences.

Maybe no one had known before and maybe I had been alone in it but this distance from my best friend made me feel more alone than ever and I wasn't sure I could stand it. It wasn't fair, I hadn't DONE anything to him but he was... 

Time. He just needed some time maybe. He would forgive me, he had to. I tried to get behind him when we got off the plane but it didn't work out and I ended up sitting up front with the van driver. It was Kevin's normal seat but he and Avi had climbed into the back and a laptop appeared between them as soon as they sat down. They were always working on something and I had no doubt whatever they were doing would be amazing.

"Earth to Scott" Kevin said, his hand grasping my shoulder. He was on his way out of the van, the last one. I'd been daydreaming and the driver was looking at me like I was crazy. 

I grabbed my stuff and practically fell out of the van in my rush. "Mitch?"

He was walking up front but paused and turned. "Hmmm?"

He didn't seem upset, he wasn't acting mad. He was just... not my Mitch. "Wait for me?"

"What's in it for me?" he asked, smiling.

"Nothing. I really don't have anything to offer you." The truth of that sentence hit me like a freight train.

"I want dibs for first choice from your mini bar." He waited until I caught up and then walked alongside me and waited with me while Esther got the room keys.

He was going to steal the good water, he always did. "Deal."

"You okay?"

"Are you?" Because honestly, I was if he was. People say that a lot but in this case it really was true. So much of my happiness hinged upon him accepting me, my limits and my choices.

"I've been better, honestly." He accepted his key and then confirmed "3:45 launch?"

Esther nodded and pointed out our meeting place as soon as we got off the elevator. I went into my room, glad to see that Mitch was rooming beside me. Even better there was a connecting door so I unlocked it like we always did and waited for Mitch to do the same. I waited twenty minutes and checked one more time after I'd unpacked my bag. His side stayed locked.

*** ***  
We went on like that for two days. He was polite but distant. Now and then he would laugh when I cracked a joke or look at me and it seemed that everything was fine but he always went back to being simply cordial. No one else seemed to notice but to me it was the biggest thing in my life and I couldn't ignore it. Every time he looked away, every time he avoided me, every time he held back his words and said the bare minimum felt like I was being slushied. I gave up on pretending it was fine on day three. 

I kept my distance since he seemed to want it. I didn't seek him out and I did my best to treat him like everyone else. He noticed though and somehow that made him decide to try a little. Maybe it was coincidence, maybe he'd had enough time to sort through things but knowing him he was just worried enough about me that it was overpowering his desire for space. 

"Scott, are you going out?" he asked when we were finally alone in the dressing room.

A group of us were going to hit a club that night and I had been invited of course. I'd been noncommital so far and hadn't been able to make up my mind yet and then I realized that he was asking because his decision might be based on mine. "I'll stay so you can go if you want." I threw my bag over my shoulder and started to head out to where dinner was set up.

"No, no that's not... why would you say that?"

He met my eyes for what felt like the first time that day. "I get that you don't want to be around me so I'll stay at the hotel. An early night won't hurt me, I've been drinking too much anyway."

He stepped up and put his hand on my arm. "That's not true. The first part I mean; I've noticed the consumption level is a tad high "

"Fine, word it however you want. You're mad at me at the very least and I really don't want to think about the worst."

He looked around before pulling me back and shutting the door. "I'm sorry."

"It's my fault. I get it."

"But I have NO right to be mad at you. I HATE myself for being a bitch to you, I am so disappointed in myself. I'm sorry Scott, I am."

"You feel how you feel Mitch. Trust me, I get it."

"I've been trying to hide it, I didn't realize it was bothering you until earlier today but even then I didn't think... Scott?"

"What?"

"This isn't about me."

"No shit. Didn't I already say that it's my fault?"

"No I mean that I need to get the hell over my anger and general tantrum and I should be behind you 100% and I am, I mean that. I'm on your side now even though it might not feel like it. I'm not really mad at you, it's just angst about the general situation but I'll get over it, I promise. God I am such an ass. Can I write you a letter? I have things I need to say and maybe once I do I can get the hell over myself and act like a decent person. I know you don't want to talk but if I write, will you read it?"

"Yeah of course. Whatever you want Mitch."

"I do have one important question though, please? It's a yes or no question, an easy one."

"Fine." It was never just one, especially not with him but if it helped him forgive me I would do it.

"Alex doesn't know, does he?"

"No." I braced myself against the wall. "Why?"

He must have seen the look on my face because he immediately said "I won't tell him, it's okay. I just wasn't sure. I didn't think he did but... I won't say anything, Scott."

I just nodded, I couldn't manage words. He opened the door and stepped out and I followed him but didn't stop at the tables or the buffet. I just kept walking.

"Scott?" Esther called. "Where are you going?"

"Back to the hotel, I'll get a cab."

"Want some dinner first?" she asked, obviously surprised.

"No thanks, I'm not hungry."

 

*** *** ***

_  
Scott,_

_Good morning. Last night was fine but everyone wished you were there._

_Okay, let's do this. Sweetheart (am I still allowed to call you that?) you're my bestie and I love you but sometimes I don't like you all that much and this is one of those times. I know that I shouldn't be hurt but I am and I don't know what to do about it. I slept on it, I talked to people (no worries, no details at ALL), I even asked my sister to pray for me. None of it worked. Not even a little._

_The thing is, I'm hurt. I'm hurt that you kept this HUGE secret from me when I have put all of myself on the line. You know everything there is to know about me and the whole time you didn't trust me enough to share this amazing, important part of who you are. I hate that I'm thinking this and even more so that I'm writing it but honey, what else don't I know? Do I know the real you? I tell myself that I do, that nothing important has changed but it's not that you're you, Scott, it's the hiding. I'm not explaining myself well, maybe I'll come back to it. I guess what I mean is that who you are, inside, affects so much. I feel like our relationship is built on a lie. God I sound like an overdramatic diva but it's how I feel and I don't know how to stop._

_Because trust me, I want to stop. You need me even if you won't admit it and I want to be there. I miss you but I feel like I'm missing something that never existed. Could I be more melodramatic? I'm sorry, I am. I should throw this away and destroy the hard proof that I'm a selfish bitch._

_I wish you could just at least tell me WHY you can't or won't talk to me. If you would just let me in at least a little bit then maybe I could move past this and accept that you told me as soon as you could and that the 10 years you spent hiding it don't matter._

_You're so damn scared, aren't you? And sad. That's what really burns me, that you've been sad for years and I never saw it. You wouldn't let me see it. How many times did you let me hurt you unwittingly without correcting me? How many times did you lie, saying what you thought I expected to hear? Even now when we should be closer than we've ever been, when I should be able to be there for you like you've been there for me, even now you're pushing me away._

_This entire letter is a disjointed mess but I hope some of it made sense. I miss you. Stop pushing? Please?_

_M  
_  
I read it again, then put it down before folding it and realizing I had no pockets to put it in. A gentle knock sounded on the door between our rooms and I hesitantly tried to open it. I was afraid my brain was playing tricks with me but it was unlocked and Mitch was standing on the other side. I wasn't sure what to say or how to start. Should I mention the letter? Just say hi? He broke the silence for me.

"Morning. Did you get my note?" He was hesitant and the air between us was as thick as the glass in a prison visitor's center.

"Yeah." I'd read it and then gone over it once again. It was wrinkled from holding it so tightly. "I'm sorry. Nice stationary by the way." He'd used the hotel notepad, covering the front and then back of a page and towards the end his writing had been almost unintelligible.

 

"Thanks, got it in Italy but no, don't apologize. I'm sorry, that's the whole point Scott, even though it didn't sound that way maybe. Hey?" he asked and I forced my eyes towards his. "I thought you were going to have an easy night and get some sleep."

That had been the general plan but he was crazy if he thought I'd actually been able to sleep with all the shit going through my head. "Not so much."

 

"I just wanted to check in and see if you read it and make sure you were okay." 

"Mitch? I know you want me to explain, need me to. But the thing is, the problem is that talking is scary and powerful and I haven't done it before and it's all locked up safe right now. I don't know what will happen if I let it out." I ran my hands through my crazy hair, my ring finger getting stuck on a small snarl. "It's like brushing tangles out of your hair. It's productive I guess but it's painful as hell and then it just gets tangled again, right? I don't know if that makes sense, I don't know much of anything right now. I didn't mean to lie to you though. I'm me with you, I mean more than with anyone else. You know me."

 

He met my eyes and processed my words for a second. "Okay."

"Okay?" I asked.

"Yeah. Just know that you don't have to lie any more, at all, to me. I have a feeling I'll love the real you, maybe even more than I do now. Please?"

"I'll try. It's habit but... okay." I stopped playing with my hair but I felt awkward and had nothing to do with my hands. One immediately went to my mouth but I forced it back down. Mitch didn't look any more comfortable.

"I guess I should finish getting ready" he offered.

 

"Yeah. Me too."

His eyebrows furrowed and he must have been playing with his tongue or his cheek given the way the side of his mouth curled up. "I was naïve and thought that everything would magically be better. As if me finally unlocking this damn door would make up for the past few days. Can I help? You're not okay, are you?"

I put a smile on my face automatically. "I'm fi-- no I'm not." I let it drop, my jaw relaxing. I just didn't feel like faking it right now. "I honestly had no idea that was why you were mad. I guess I need some time to process and that means a lot of shit is still out there and I didn't want you to have even MORE reasons to hate me. But I need a shower and it's getting late and I'm starving. I need to handle something, anything but all I want to do is crawl back under the covers for about a week." I wrapped my arms around myself in a lame attempt at comfort. "I'll be alright."

"I will never, ever hate you. I know you'll be alright but I'd make it easier if I could. Do you need a hug?"

"Yeah but I don't really get hugs, I give them. That's so stupid its not..." I knew what I meant but not how to explain it.

"No, I get it. I know what you mean. Hugging you is a lot different than hugging K but you're always the... I get it." He glanced around the room then walked in, grabbing a pillow and putting it on the end of the bed before perching himself on top of it. "Better than nothing." 

He opened his arms and motioned me over. I went gladly. He wrapped his arms around mine instead of sneaking them under and around my ribs like usual and I rested my head on his shoulder. I was slumped over and we probably looked ridiculous but it was exactly what I needed.

"It'll be okay and I swear that we are going to be fine. I promise. I'm not letting you do this alone anymore. You and me kid, always."

And that was all it took to break the dam. I'd like to pretend that I cried petite, tender tears but I didn't. It got pretty ugly near the end but he just held on and patted my hair while I soaked half of his shoulder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *** Hello!!! :) This was a hard chapter to write although I have to admit that this whole story has been difficult. It's a lot to manage and combine; a beginning that excites people and draws you in, a very sensitive topic and my goal of always, always writing a damn good story. I will probably rewrite this several times, tweaking it long after it's first posted. There are 80 ways this conversation between them could have gone and even though I wanted to hint at more and do it at least four ways, I had to finally choose one. For now, this is it. For everyone reading, please realize that I have to take some liberties to make the story flow and work well. That goes for all the chapters, not just this one.
> 
> Also, a word about terminology. The transsexual/transgender/genderfluid community is very diverse and there are many terms that are used. Also, please remember that in this story Scott and Mitch aren't immersed deeply into the community so now and then Scott especially may use a term that you don't prefer. I won't use harsh negative ones, but there's variation in what people consider the 'preferred' term and what is acceptable or not. Just keep that in mind if they don't use the proper terms. :)
> 
> Almost finished, promise. I've had a couple people ask if Scott is biologically male or female and he's male assigned at birth. Hope that clears up any confusion.
> 
> Thanks for trusting me enough to come on this journey with me. I hope you won't be disappointed.


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